1590 7 5
|
The receipts all fell into the black leather valise he’d retrieved from storage that afternoon, except for the forty-eight cents, which wound up in the right front pocket of his jeans.
|
1590189
|
|
1590148
|
His wife had just come from the gynecologist and was toying with her French fries.
|
159030
|
Theresa Esposito woke to the smell of pignoli cookies baking. The sweet scent made her stomach rumble. She was ten-years-old today. And she felt ten. Her hair, her ears, her eyes, her toes — everything felt ten.
|
159065
|
With each step, that cold hand steals ever upward.
|
158974
|
I went to the lake,to our spot. there were daffodils there.i smiled at that, then cried a little.you want to hear something funny?they scare me. they are so, so yellow.they scream caution.I almost keep walking, but the sun is out, and I am…
|
158922
|
my mouth is open, ready to bite your tiny toes
|
15891712
|
There are 1.45 million readers
of poetry in the US and
2.9 million poets. The odds
of an audience are bad.
|
1589109
|
Doofus
National Puppet Radio
Total Bogascity
Sex Cowards
Mein Kampfire
Boner
Hyperventilate
Sewer Video Rats
Psychic Umbrella
Fire Your Psychic!
Tender Brisket
Megatrouser
Puzzlement
University Housecoats
Fuchsia
Big Ass Dawn
|
1589148
|
|
158942
|
To be a backup dancer for Billy Ocean; that's all. I had chubby legs like a baby. They turned out akwardly as if I had broken hips but mum said it was just the way I came out and I would grow out of it.
|
1589106
|
I enjoy launching words into space. Please dangle a moment here while I prepare the next sentence. Ok. You can come in now. Take boiling for instance. And hawsers. The sound of words on a sheet of paper. The manifesto for a roll of sleep. Sleep is oblivious to…
|
158911
|
Zorro lived in his mother’s basement until he could get back on his feet.
|
1589106
|
|
1589127
|
|
158933
|
Or, today, when early summer sweated the long pants off every woman under the age of thirty. Did I notice the way you looked at them for one, two, three seconds; then didn't, partial to short-shorts. It was sly how you kept them in your line of sight, alm
|
158999
|
She may never know and it sureis a small world. She may neverknow and they have a list. She maynever know, I'm very grateful.She may never know and I couldhave sworn we were getting along justfine. I refused to say goodbye. I am still wearing those…
|
1589168
|
But his muscles fluttered and off he flew
leaving the stink of barnyard on the sheets.
|
158965
|
|
1589179
|
Words darken with smut and irony over time.
|
1588104
|
The next day I can’t recall at all, a waste, like the flash of twenty years of my life, faces that pass you like comets in some erogenous unnamed zone of night, but they got me in some isolation room with my wrists in leather restraints.
|
158873
|
I did do one nice thing for you
|
158801
|
Chet Baker mourns for you, New Coke mourns for you, Roddy Piper mourns for you, 8-track cassettes of Humble Pie and Bachman Turner Overdrive mourn for you
|
158852
|
Do you remember who I am yet?
I remember the first time you made love to me. It appears I was one of the lucky ones … it wasn’t in a car, it wasn’t in your Dad’s boat, underwater, or any other weird place you've written about. It was actual
|
158875
|
The easiest and most legal way to pick up a woman is to take a single, writer friend with you to a bar. While there, look for the woman you are interested in. Her? Are you sure? Okay then. Next, tell your writer friend that the woman keeps looking at him when he's…
|
158800
|
Mayumi and her friends arrived at the beach. The sun was near setting for the night, and a few stars began an early peek in the twilit sky.
|
158895
|
My body feels chilly but it's not from the outside temps. It seems to me it's the opposite of a fever.
|
158853
|
It was midnight. I was outside the cottage, digging another row of star-shaped holes for the shrubbery.
|
158870
|
He came running out of his narrow little shop, Berthillon
and chased me down the Ilse St. Louis street, saying,
“Monsieur, Monsieur, nous avon pamplemousse!
It’s ici, Monsieur. Your pamplemousse.
They just come in this matin, morning
and I’
|
158821
|
Slipshod shoes were the first sign of a meltdown. Sometimes she could see it coming. A prickly gentleman washing his clothes on a Thursday afternoon. One week he’s fine. Nothing wrong with owning a sour face. The next Thursday, his shoes don’t match.
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